Best Decision
by Kavi Leighanna
Summary: She knew he didn't mean to, but he'd crossed a line and they were going to have to be careful when dealing with the fallout. Emily/Hotch
1. Part I: Best Decision

In retrospect, she knew she'd probably overreacted. After all, the BAU was in shootouts all the time and the focus was always on the end result. However, her blood was still pumping viciously in her veins as she tried to hunt down their fallen comrade. Ambulance lights flashed around her, EMS wheeling unfortunate bystanders and their unsub into the waiting vehicles. She frantically searched for his familiar face in each gurney, trying to keep her panic out of her visible behaviour.

The others were all busy with the other tasks that went with a shootout. JJ was handling the surge of press that had swamped the scene. Reid and Rossi were briefing the local police that had been a little late to show up. Morgan was ensuring that their unsub was strapped down and handcuffed, even through he was headed to the hospital. Emily needed to find Hotch.

It had been odd to feel her blood freeze when she'd heard Morgan's shout and even more shocking to see his body on the pavement. She knew the team was too busy to really worry about him at that particular moment in time. What had terrified her the most was the sheer panic that raced through her system at the thought of Aaron Hotchner lying on the ground dying not ten feet away from her.

Eventually, she spotted his dark head, sitting on the back of an ambulance. She made her way over, trying to keep her steps even and controlled. She wasn't sure she cared if he could read the panic that lay under her calm exterior. All Emily really cared about, was making sure he was okay.

The staccato of her heels caught his attention, something they had been doing more and more of lately. He knew her footsteps, her walk, the way she climbed the stairs to his office. It was offsetting to be so aware of another person, but the ultra-sensitive perception had been a while in building. Trust was natural in their line of work, intense emotion wasn't usually welcome. He managed a smile.

"Just a graze," he told her, nevertheless happy when the panic didn't seem to leave the depths of her eyes.

She saw the bandage on his upper arm, trying to ignore how unbuttoned his Oxford shirt was. "How bad?"

"Just a graze," he repeated, unsure if she hadn't heard him or if she didn't believe him. The roll of her eyes told him it was the latter. "They're not taking me to the hospital. Just a bandage job."

That assuaged her panic a little bit, but she could still vividly see his body on the ground and had a feeling that image was going to be haunting her for a while. But it was something she didn't tell him. After all, he was her boss. And he was so much older than she was.

Hotch wasn't sure when Emily Prentiss had become a book to him. He read behaviour for a living, but so did she, and he'd always found that she was often better at hiding her emotions than the rest of his team. Lately, however, she had become more and more of an open book and he wasn't sure if that was him gaining a better understanding of her or if she was opening up to him. Then came the question of whether or not that decision to allow him to read her was a conscious or subconscious decision. And if it was conscious, well, he wasn't exactly sure he was ready to go down that road.

Still, there was panic in the back of her eyes, in the tense set of her shoulders, in the way she crossed her arms just under her breasts. Emily knew he could see it and knew he was watching her every movement, worried she was a rabbit about to spring. But how else was she supposed to react? She was going to see his prone body for weeks in her nightmares and there hadn't been any real damage done. She shifted from foot to foot.

"I didn't see you get up," she said finally, unwittingly telling him plenty about her state of mind.

"I had to make sure I could," he answered.

"You're lucky he didn't shoot at you again."

He sensed she still needed the reassurance that he wasn't injured any more than the scrape. He picked at the tape on the injury and pulled it back, veiling his knowledge in his fake attempt to check it himself. "Mostly a burn," he observed, relief in his voice.

Emily let out a breath at being able to actually see the damage done. She wasn't sure how to handle the situation, how to deal with her urge to touch, to make sure he was alive. With all of the people running around, there was no way she was going to risk contact, let alone any other sign that she was still disturbed. To her surprise it was Hotch who reached out as he stood, squeezing her elbow.

"Local law enforcement?" he asked, trying to re-focus her mind. It wouldn't do her any good to keep replaying the events. He was fine and he would be fine for a long time coming.

"Reid and Rossi," she answered, knowing his full question. "JJ's working her magic and Morgan's got his eye on the unsub."

Hotch nodded as he thanked the EMT that had tended to his wound. Then, he surprised both of them by placing his hand on her back, steering her towards the two new SUVs the FBI had provided them with. It would have been difficult to drive back to their hotels with theirs. Bullet holes did not make glass safe, nor easier to see though.

Emily found her heart racing as she let him steer her. It wasn't just the touch on her back either, but the direction in which they were headed and the still-rapid beating of her heart. Her hands were shaking and she'd had to tuck them into fists, even though she knew her emotions were probably plain for him to see. And the SUVs weren't exactly parked in the most public of places.

For much like he'd learned to read her, she'd learned to read him. It had come as a surprise that he'd tended to lean on her following his divorce from Haley. As a team that was so often in such close contact, they all tended to keep their private lives exactly that. It was rare that they talked about their outside relationships. Even family was, for all intents and purposes, a taboo subject. But, as Emily had learned, it didn't seem to necessarily be a be-all-end-all rule.

She hadn't minded that he'd come to her. Actually, it had been an accident really, and the beginning of a friendship that she tried to avoid thinking of as more. She'd been slower to trust than he had, but eventually, things about their lives became routine. Often times they went through paperwork while munching on take out during a late night. She'd sneak books into his desk drawers that she thought he might like and he snuck her favourite candy onto her desk on bad days. Meals out were an adventure as they traded foods without thinking, knowing what the other preferred and disliked. The team did it often, but she and Hotch didn't have to talk to do it.

They'd both avoided talking about the shift that 'friendship' had taken. Touches lingered when it was just the two of them in the office. Emily's coffee runs inevitably meant two cups instead of one. His sandwich runs included her without question to ensure she did eat. She'd started using his first name, though only when it was the two of them and never during a case. They used it as a way to draw a line.

But it seemed like that line was blurring and blurring fast.

She almost bowled him over when he came to a complete stop by stepping in front of her and Emily took stock of her surroundings. There was no one around. Everyone was doing the job they were wordlessly delegated to do and it left the two of them alone. The SUVs blocked the sight of them to the large majority of the nearby crowd, the blood and gore the other factor in keeping the audience's attention. The storefronts to her left were closed down, light coming solely from the street lights above.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his hand just brushing her sleeve.

She had hoped he would have actually stroked her arm instead. "Fine."

"You're lying."

"It was… intense." There was so much she wanted to say to him, but wearing their FBI badges, their colleagues only feet away, she wasn't exactly sure this was the right place to unload her fear. Plus, the part of her that didn't want to hug him wanted to punch him for scaring her so badly.

"Emily."

"What do you want me to say?" she asked snappishly. She wasn't calm enough to actually be addressing all of this and it kind of terrified her that he was so close to cracking her already delicate façade. They were at a stale mate, both standing with arms crossed. But it seemed that Hotch knew her better than she'd given him credit for. Emily couldn't remember launching herself at him or if he'd come to her. The next thing she knew his arms held her as tight as hers were holding him.

His heart beat started to slow and his muscles began to relax making it much easier to feel the same in her. It felt good to hold her as tight as it seemed like she wanted to hold him. They stayed like that, hugging tightly. To his surprise, her breath hitched, her shoulders shaking and instead of pulling back and embarrassing her, Hotch shocked her by raising his hand to her head, pulling out her ponytail and threading his fingers into her hair.

Her arms, if it was possible, held him even tighter, taking his intimate touch as permission to actually bury her face in the side of his neck. She inhaled, taking his scent deep, using most of her senses to remind herself that he really was there, alive and well. "Jesus," she breathed into his neck.

Hotch tried not to shiver at the air rushing over his skin. He understood the sentiment perfectly. Life seemed brighter all of a sudden, with her in his arms, her breath on his neck, and her hair between his fingers.

Neither of them were really sure how long they stood there, nor did they really absorb the things going on around them. They were in their own world, separate from the police, the ambulance, the rest of the BAU. For a few minutes, they were Emily and Aaron, no titles, no FBI, no job. They were people absorbing that both of them were perfectly fine.

Eventually, they broke away, though it was slow and reluctant on both sides. Emily's hand stroked down his side as she released him and his stayed in her hair as long as he could hold it there. Neither of them said anything, entire conversations passing through their eyes for the first time. The privacy walls the team consciously and subconsciously constructed had been unceremoniously torn down in favour of comfort and security.

She folded her arms over her chest. "We should probably get back to the station, start the clean up process of all of the evidence and stuff."

He breathed deep, mirroring her stance. "Probably a good idea."

Silence fell again

"I'll go round up the team," she volunteered, unsure of how comfortable the silence was. Or wasn't.

"Good idea."

She nodded, though stood unmoving for another moment, as if there was something she wanted to say. And there was, of course. Too many things were going unsaid at that moment. But she didn't say anything. Instead, she turned with a soft sigh to go do as she'd volunteered. It was Hotch who called her attention back.

"Come to dinner with me."

And suddenly her heart was beating double time again, though for a completely different reason. "I beg your pardon?"

His face turned tomato red. "Never mind. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Yes."

It was his turn to look at her in surprise. "What?"

"Yes. Yes, I'll go to dinner with you."

He'd taken the risk, but hadn't fully prepared himself for the reward. "Okay."

A smile started, tilting up the corners of Emily's mouth. "When we get back to Virginia."

"When we get back to Virginia," he agreed, his own smile starting to blossom.

Her smile blossomed fully, eyes sparkling. "I'm going to go round up the troops, see if we can't get out of here a little quicker than usual." Her smile turned coy. "I seem to suddenly be looking forward to returning home."

The complete turn around of her behaviour shocked him into a bark of laughter as he watched her go. He leaned back against the nearby SUV, trying to absorb what had happened in the last two minutes. When his phone sang cheerily with a new text message, he went for it absently, still trying to take it in. He was surprised to find it was from Emily.

_By the way, I'm not a roses girl._

That much, he'd assumed. He chuckled to himself as he dismissed the message without replying. However, it didn't seem his phone, or Emily, was quite finished.

_I'm more of a daffodil kind of girl._

He smiled. It was starting to look like opening up to her had been his best decision in a long, long time.

* * *

_**I'm not fully sure what this is. It came to me, I kept writing, this is what happened. I think the characters fell in and out of character, kind of a back and forth thing, but I'll leave that to you to judge. Leave a review!**_


	2. Part II: Daffodil

Derek Morgan was confused.

It didn't happen often. As one of the members of the top behavioural analysis teams in the country, there wasn't much that confused Derek Morgan. But the daffodil did. It was driving him crazy, just sitting there, on Emily Prentiss' desk. No card, no identification as to who would be the sender, nothing but a single daffodil, meticulously set across the workspace of her desk.

And Emily wasn't even in yet.

It was probably the latter that frustrated him more than the former. To the team's knowledge – and yes, he'd checked with every single one of them – Emily didn't have as much as an admirer, let alone someone who would send her flowers. He'd wracked his brain, trying to come up with a reason as to why there would be a bright yellow daffodil sitting happily on her desk and had come up completely empty handed. The only way he could think of finding out what the daffodil meant was to ask Emily herself.

If she'd just get her royal behind into work. And, as if he'd wished it, in she came. Derek didn't even give her time to set her purse down. He accosted her just inside the doors of the BAU. "Who sent it?"

Emily looked up at him, startled and caught off guard. "Who sent what?"

"Nuh uh, you know exactly what I'm talking about?" Derek countered.

"I do not," Emily rolled her eyes. "I just got here."

He had to give her that. He dogged her path to her desk, running smack into her back when she stopped dead. He knew she'd spotted the flower. He watched as a contented smile blossomed over her face. He knew it! "Who sent it?"

"Why does it matter?" Emily countered, gently picking up the flower and absently setting down the bags she was carrying. It was such a sweet gesture on his part, really, if done with a lack of thought. He must have known she would get interrogated.

Suddenly, her head snapped up. Why that little… he'd done this on purpose, left her favourite flower on her desk for the world to see before she'd even gotten into the office. People walked through their bullpen all the time, though Emily never really knew or understood why. She'd been hit on by those agents that walked through their bullpen. He'd done it to show that she had someone, even if the daffodil wasn't as obvious as a rose. She was going to have words with him about subtly later.

Derek Morgan watched all of this with absolute delight, exchanging a knowing look with Reid as he did so. It wasn't often Emily had her walls down low enough for the team to look in, as it was with the rest of their little family. It wasn't safe for the private things to be read when you didn't want them to be. But there were those five minutes when each of them first walked through the doors of the BAU, where their entire worlds could be understood in a glance, just before the walls went up and the job became the focus once again.

"Who sent it?" Derek asked again, pulling Emily from her thoughts.

"None of your business," she said briskly, reaching into her desk drawer for one of the many bottles of water she kept there. The daffodil now had a home beside her computer screen, both visible and partially hidden. She looked up at Derek and groaned. While she enjoyed the sibling-like relationship they had, she disliked how very close their friendship was to actual siblings.

"Oh! She's here!"

Yup, he was dead. There was nothing else to say but that. He _knew_ her colleagues, _knew_ that there was no way a flower was going to say simple and inconspicuous on her desk. In fact, he'd probably deliberately placed it right there for the entire world to see. And now Penelope Garcia had her hooks in the topic.

"Who's the lucky guy?"

"C'mon guys, really," Emily almost begged. This was something she didn't want to discuss and definitely not in front of the team.

"Not a chance, Em. You've obviously been hiding this from us girls and it's payback time," Penelope crowed gleefully. The blond had wondered if there wasn't something Emily wasn't saying those girls' nights they had. It was in the way she conducted herself around other guys and though she flirted and danced, she never _ever_ took one home. Sometimes Penelope was the most perceptive person in the entirety of the world, and other times, she was absolutely clueless as to what was going on. Emily had a man. Even better, Emily was trying to keep that man a well-hidden secret. And it had worked.

Up until the daffodil.

"Look, it's a flower. It's not even a rose. You guys are just reading what you want," Emily defended.

Penelope and Derek exchanged an even wider grin. She was inadvertently playing right into their hands. Either that, or she had completely forgotten that she was standing in the middle of the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI with the great minds she worked with every day.

"Defending yourself isn't helping your cause," Penelope almost sang in gleeful observation.

Emily closed her eyes, trying to gain control over her annoyance. It was a simple flower. Ha, who was she kidding? It was more than a simple flower. It was a declaration of possession and a sweet one at that. He could have been much more obvious, she knew, but that didn't stop her from being frustrated at the absolute chaos he'd now created. How was she supposed to do damage control on this one without telling the team? And she knew _that_ hadn't been his intent in the slightest. They'd discussed telling the team, getting it out in the open so there wasn't any issue, but then Emily had pointed out how much easier it would be to explain it to them if they had a past of keeping it out of their jobs. If the team knew that they'd been dating for months before the team put two and two together, they'd have a better leg to stand on.

And they'd been surprisingly and extremely good at it. For profilers, the team was missing something huge and it made both of them feel so much better about the whole thing in the long run. After all, now that they could show their relationship wouldn't mean special privileges on the job or the problems of Protectiveness stepping on Independence's toes, they were stronger for it.

But they hadn't agreed it was time to share the news just yet. They'd only been on six or seven cases since their relationship began – the jury was up in the air as to whether that first case counted or not – and still, neither was comfortable with trying to explain things to the team. They knew the friendship had been growing, but none of them, it seemed, knew that the relationship had truly formed.

"Did we solve the mystery of the daffodil?"

Emily groaned out loud this time, dropping to her chair. He was going to be the death of her, she knew it. How was she supposed to fend off the entire team? Derek was relatively easy to throw off the scent. Penelope was much harder, but add JJ to the mix and she was so screwed. She was going to have to think up no less than a miracle to get out of it with his secret identity still in tact.

"Fine, there's a guy. Happy?"

"Not even close, sugarplum," Penelope replied with a gleam in her eyes. "We're going to need a name."

"Over my dead body."

"Protective much?" JJ inquired with a teasing raise of her eyebrow. "It's just a name. Unless you're not supposed to be dating him."

"Would I be dating him if it wasn't allowed?" Not an affirmation or a denial, just a little bit of a bone to throw them. Usually, she was a stickler for the rules. This was a big one she knew she was breaking. But even the FBI couldn't stop instantaneous attraction and building emotional ties.

"And what does Hotch think about this?"

Her crush on Hotch was well-known through the ladies of the team and JJ and Penelope had teased her enough that she was sure Derek had caught on. Reid was all too often lost in his own little world of genius and Rossi off in his own little world of self-importance. She was glad the girls weren't insane enough to say something while Hotch was within earshot.

"He thinks his team should get back to work."

Okay, maybe he wouldn't be as dead as she'd originally intended. If he was going to save her from the interrogation, she'd have to cut back her wrath just that little bit. It wouldn't be fair to throttle her saviour after all. The thankful smile she sent him was brief and she had to try and hide the way her breath caught in her throat. It always happened when she caught sight of him looking intimidating in his dark FBI-standard-issue suit.

"Perfect timing Hotch," JJ said with a smile. "I've got a case for us."

"Conference room, ten minutes." Then he was back in his office.

Emily pulled out her phone with a sigh.

"Date to cancel?"

Oh, if only Derek knew how much of an out he'd just given her. Emily put on her best regretful face. "Something like that," she answered, her fingers moving over the keys for a text message.

Derek grinned. "Who knows, maybe you'll get another flower for your troubles."

Emily smiled secretively as the message sent. "You know, maybe I will."

--

_You're still in trouble._

He knew he would be, but he couldn't hold himself in any longer. He was sick of the parade of people who came in here with the guise of doing some menial job to stop and chat with her. It annoyed him even more when they were male agents. Of course, he knew that not only was she taken, but she'd admitted to him herself that dating him was breaking her self-imposed rule of never dating another agent.

He knew the flower would be perfect. A touch of sweetness for her because daffodils were her favourite, and a message to the men that she wasn't exactly on the market. There was a bit of twisted nature in him, the imp that told him to leave it on her desk, in plain view. He'd weight the pros and cons of her interrogation by the team against the message it would send to the rest of the bureau when word got around. The message won out over her annoyance of an interrogation.

_Have you lost your mind?_

He smiled at the next message and typed his own. _Not in the slightest. Matthews from CSA stopped by yesterday to drop off a DNA file. _

He saw her shoulders shake and knew she'd caught on. She'd mentioned to him over the phone the previous night that he'd dropped it off when she'd already had a copy sent to her via inter-office mail. She and the CSA chief were long-standing friends through Ambassador Prentiss, a link she sometimes exploited, and the results had been in her hot little hand before they were officially released.

_The one I already had. You couldn't find another way?_

_Suggestions?_ What was he supposed to do? Toss her over her desk and kiss her senseless to prove a point? Not a chance. He wanted ten cases while dating under their belts before they readdressed letting the team in on the secret. Not to mention the repercussions of fraternization. And her leaving the BAU was not something they wanted to talk about. He'd considered doing it, but she was more open with her exultations of how much the team needed him. She'd probably resent him more for doing it. They'd have to talk about it, if they ended up telling the team.

He figured telling the team was like the icing on the cake, the broadcasting to the world that they were together. They had it all planned out. Subtle things, that they both knew the team would catch onto. Instead of restraining themselves from the casual touches of couples, they'd let the restraint go, a move he was most definitely looking forward to. The very personal teasing would become more and more frequent until finally, Derek or Penelope would just flat out ask.

_Point made._

He'd thought so too. He checked his watch. Just in time for them to hit the conference room and see what JJ had for them. Four more after this and he'd talk to her again about letting the team know. He was kind of looking forward to it. They were all waiting for him, seated around the table, Derek tossing a ball across the table to Emily to occupy them while they waited.

He sighed as he caught her eye. Just four more. Four more and they wouldn't have to be the best-kept secret anymore. He was looking forward to that.

* * *

**_So... this came to me. It linked with Best Decision... So for all intents and purposes there's a chapter 2. It's more like a Part II, but hey. I have an idea for Part __III if you guys want it..._**

_**I do enjoy writing these. They're stand alones and yet, not. That way there's no cliffies, no leaving the readers hanging... It is fantastic.**_


	3. Part III: Jack

Barbeques were not usually Aaron Hotchner's style, at least not ones that were held at his house. He always felt it was too much work to set it all up and then clean it all up and always felt there was a certain level of superficiality to it. But he'd been talked into it by JJ's superior negotiation skills and Emily's promise to help with any clean up afterwards.

Then Haley had thrown him a five-year-old curve ball. It wasn't that he didn't love his son – quite the contrary to say the least – but habit kept Jack away from his team. Once again, it had been Emily to the rescue, thank goodness for her third party logic. Aaron left Jack for his team. It simply made sense to let Jack have a chance to learn who those people were and make his own judgements instead of resenting them. Plus, it wasn't like the team didn't want to meet the little tyke either.

And Jack was excited. Emily had told him everything she could about the team members coming. She'd met Jack on a previous visit and understandably so. After their fourth month of serious dating it didn't seem logical to keep Jack from learning about Emily any longer. Both Aaron and Emily knew it was a serious relationship, or they wouldn't have started it in the first place. To date a teammate was putting too much on the line for it to be a simple fling. So, Aaron had orchestrated a simple picnic in the park and had been more than pleasantly surprised when Jack took to Emily immediately.

Aaron knew Jack had a special place in Emily's heart now. She loved Jack dearly and spending time with him was a genuine thrill to her. Jack simply adored her and the many tricks she knew. Sometimes it was frustrating to have to explain to Jack that Emily wasn't going to come over, but the weekends she couldn't, she always left him a little surprise, whether it was one of the child-friendly meals she'd learned to cook from the Prentiss' many chefs, or a little dollar store toy for him to unwrap. Even now, Jack was comfortably settled on the living room carpet playing with his ever expanding collection of cars.

Meanwhile Aaron was in the kitchen organizing everything they would need. He and Emily had gone over the list a hundred times, until she'd gotten a stitch in her side from laughing. It amused her to no end that he was so nervous about having the team over for a meal. They had, however, made a mad dash the night before to find and hide all of her things. They weren't ready to tell the team just yet.

He wiped his hands at the knock on the door, smiling widely as he greeted Garcia and Reid. "Come on in," he said, holding the door wide and trying not to trip on Jack at the same time. The little boy had attached himself to his father's leg.

"Hey little guy," Garcia greeted with a friendly smile, crouching down to his level.

Jack chewed on his lip, but waved his free hand.

"He's adorable," Garcia squealed.

Aaron smiled with pride. "Jack, meet Penelope and Spencer."

Jack knit his eyebrows. "Pen-Penny-Penna."

Garcia was trying to hold in her laughter. "Pen's fine," she encouraged with a smile. Then she caught sight of the car in Jack's hand. "You're a car fan, huh?"

Jack nodded shyly.

"What kind of cars do you have?"

"Queen cars," Jack answered in a small voice. Looking up at his father.

Aaron smiled. "Steve McQueen," he answered the unspoken question in Garcia's eyes. "Jack, why don't you show Pen your cars? I'm sure she'd love to see them."

Garcia played into the role perfectly. "Oh, can I Jack? Please?" She was even bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Jack giggled. Then he took Garcia's hand, leading her to the floor of the living room where they were all spread out over the car mat he adored oh so much.

Reid continued to look awkward in the front hall. He really wasn't good in social situations, and children never liked him.

"Can I get you a drink?" Aaron offered, if only to stem the awkwardness a bit.

"Sure," Reid answered with another awkward smile, his hands in his pockets.

"Kitchen's this way."

It was another ten minutes before JJ showed up and Aaron was more than thankful to have someone around who handled Reid's awkwardness with grace and efficiency. Morgan was next and Aaron was left to watch as his five-year-old son wove his spell around the BAU team. He even managed to convince Morgan to help his Daddy hang the new tire swing. Because every kid had one.

Jack and the team were all out back when the last guest arrived. Emily stood on his front porch grinning, a large bowl in her arms. Aaron's mouth started to water. "You didn't."

"I did. I spoil you," she teased softly. Then, louder, "Potato salad."

It was one of Aaron's favourite dishes that Emily had learned to make. It was the perfect combination of mayonnaise, spices, and potatoes that there was no way it could be hated by anyone. Aaron led the way to the kitchen, setting the bowl beside the other ones on the counter. "Everyone's outside," he said softly.

Emily nodded, following his step closer with her own step back. "Right outside that window. We've been too careful to blow it now."

Well, that wasn't totally true, but before he could warn her she'd stepped out onto the back porch to greet the rest of her teammates. There was no tactful way to tell her about Jack now. They were going to be so, so busted.

Sure enough, the minute the five-year-old hurricane caught sight of his third favourite person in the entire world, he let out a yell. "Em'ly!"

Emily spun in surprise, but caught Jack up in her arms, hugging him close like she always did when greeting him. "Hey Buddy."

"I got a tire swing. Just like all the kids at school."

Emily smiled a little self consciously as she followed Jack's line of sight. Sure enough, hanging from the large tree in the center of Aaron's backyard was a black tire. "Wow. Did you try it out?"

"Uh huh," Jack answered, nodding happily, one arm around her neck and the other grasping her necklace. "Mr Morgan pushed me and then Pen spun me."

"And then you were all dizzy," Garcia teased, ruffling the child's hair.

But the look she gave Emily almost made the latter wince. She was in trouble now. She hadn't said a word to anyone about knowing Jack because it would lead to questions of how she'd met him and how she knew as much about the five-year-old as she did. She gently put Jack down when he started to wiggle out of her arms. "I made you a present!" he announced happily, completely oblivious to the tension he'd inadvertently created.

"Did you really?" Emily asked, tempered excitement in her voice as she looked down at the miniature version of Aaron.

Jack nodded seriously. "But you haveta wait here. It's a surprise."

Emily didn't want to wait there. She wanted to follow Jack, if only to remove herself from the line of fire for a few moments. She met Aaron's eyes where he stood in the doorway. He knew it as well as she did. They were busted.

She watched as Jack scampered inside, glaring at Aaron as he followed to make sure Jack didn't injure himself on the stairs. He was going to pay for leaving her to fend off the firing squad.

"So you met Jack," JJ began nonchalantly.

"Yeah," Emily said warily, crossing her arms.

"How long have you known Jack?" Garcia asked conversationally.

There was no point in lying and Emily knew it as she took a seat on a nearby lawn chair. The worst part was there wasn't really anyone she could blame. Jack was five. He didn't know any better. "Six months."

"Huh," Morgan said, a predatory grin on his face.

"And how did you meet young master Hotchner?" Garcia asked, a gleam in her eyes.

"A picnic in the park."

Emily was surprised by Aaron's strong voice from the doorway. Actually, she was more surprised by his blunt honesty. She was going to go with a bald-faced lie and hope the team bought it. She nodded when the questioning eyes turned to her.

"And what garnered you such and… _individual_ invitation?"

Emily sighed. "Just ask, Pen."

Garcia grinned and jumped up and down. "How long have you been doing the dirty with Boss Man."

Emily wrinkled her nose. "Taking you literally?" She got her own perverse pleasure when even Reid winced. Aaron got a kick out of it too by the look on his face, even if his cheeks were starting to turn red.

Jack interrupted them by scampering out and climbing into Emily's lap, page in hand. He showed it to her proudly. Emily wanted to cry. It was a simple crayon drawing, the kind only five year olds could draw and have it still be considered art, but his kindergarten teacher had written everybody's name just over their heads.

"See? That's you, and Daddy and me!" Jack proclaimed proudly.

Emily was beyond touched and she cradled the boy against her body, tickling his side slightly as she did so. Jack giggled and squirmed. "I think this is fantastic, Jack," Emily said sincerely as she looked at the picture again. "Thank you."

Jack smiled. "Welcome!" Then, in pure five-year-old fashion, his attention shifted in the blink of an eye. "Mr Morgan, will you push me on the swing again?"

Garcia and Morgan seemed to exchange an entire conversation with their eyes before Morgan unfolded his form from the chair to follow Jack to the swing. Emily knew there was no way she was off the hook. Well, her and Aaron.

"You never answered the question. And I don't need the literal timeline."

Emily smiled. It made her warm and fuzzy on the inside to know she'd at least partially creeped out the little busybodies. "Eight months."

JJ's jaw dropped. Garcia looked gleefully surprised. "You're kidding."

Emily shook her head as Aaron came around to settle his hands on her shoulders. "Eight months, thirteen cases."

"And we never knew," JJ said shaking her head. She was impressed to say the least.

Emily exchanged a happy smile with the man above her. "Nope. If it makes you feel any better, we were more than careful."

Garcia's eyes widened suddenly. "You left the daffodil on her desk!"

Aaron chuckled looking down at Emily's glower. "I did."

"It was either that or throw me over my desk, apparently," Emily reasoned. "Matthews _did_ leave me alone after that."

"My gosh, Hotch really is human."

Emily cracked up. Laughter heaved her chest and made her body shake violently at Garcia's statement. It was true, in a sense. For the FBI, Aaron was the always-reliable, always-cool, always-collected unit chief. He didn't laugh, rarely smiled, and showed very little emotion outside of frustration and cool annoyance. But Aaron was much different from SSA Hotchner and unfortunately, very few knew there was a difference.

But Emily did, and for a while, it gave her the warmest of warm fuzzies when he'd send her a little text message for no apparent reason, whether they were on a case or not. She got to see the other side of Boss Man Hotch and she valued and treasured every minute.

Just like he valued and treasured her. It was an odd concept really, especially after being the daughter of an ambassador. Emily was used to being paraded around, introduced to this person and the next, being shown off, but never really shown the affection due someone her mother cared about. Hotch didn't hold back like that. She knew he treasured every minute with her and though neither of them had gone as far as to say the three all-important words, the gestures were there that spoke for themselves. It was, really, much better than the words.

She knew they didn't need the words. They wouldn't have started this if they saw the potential of it ending without affecting them. Outside they office, they weren't Agents Hotchner and Prentiss. They were Emily and Aaron. The things they saw didn't matter. Most of the time. There were cases that affected both of them, some that affected only one of them. It was only then that work followed them home. It was then that they had to help each other through the blood, the gore, the death, the grief. Those were the bad ones, but they worked their way through it.

"I can't believe this has been right under our noses the entire time and we haven't seen it," JJ lamented. "How did you do it?"

Aaron looked down at Emily, both of them rather happy with the way the team had taken the whole thing. "We didn't change our behaviour."

Emily nodded her agreement. "Work was work and home was home. We were careful not to let one run into the other."

Garcia blinked. "Huh?"

Emily sighed. "Think of it this way, you have a domestic problem and you work together, what happens?"

"You bring it into work," JJ nodded.

"Exactly. We don't. Our issues outside of work are our issues outside of work. They aren't addressed in the office."

"That's a strict line," Garcia said carefully.

"But one that had to be drawn to make this work," Emily said softly. She knew she was probably being a bit mushy, but it was the straight truth. If they had brought their issues into the office, not only would the entire world have known, but there was too much of a chance of those issues costing someone their lives. Any issue could wait until they were off duty to be hammered out. "And we never, ever, went on a case with issues."

"There was too much at stake to let something slip," Aaron agreed. "On cases we were agents."

Garcia whistled. "You guys are good."

Emily sighed as she glanced over at Jack. She wanted to keep this, wanted to stay here. "Let's only hope the Bureau sees it that way."

* * *

**_I'm not sure what I think about this. I'll let you guys be the judge. I have another case-based idea if you want..._**


	4. Part IV: Transference

Emily viciously yanked off her t-shirt, her mind whirling a million miles a minute. She'd been perfectly fine to step in, known exactly what she was doing and exactly what she was going to say and do to get through to the man that had killed five women. And she was doing just fine talking him down out of shooting her when the bullets had smashed through the glass.

Out of habit she'd hit the ground. Conditioning had her ducking for cover, even as she saw Gordon Howard go down. She'd known he was dead when he'd hit the ground, but checked anyway, kicking away the gun he'd pulled on her in the process. Sure enough, there was no pulse.

Morgan had been the first one through the door, she remembered. Emily had shaken her head at him, indicating that Howard was dead. Morgan's gun lowered immediately and she saw the tense lines in his muscles relax. Then she'd heard his frantic voice and _knew_.

She wasn't really _angry_ at him per se. The logical part of her knew that he was doing what he thought he had to do to protect her. Aaron protected the things he cared about and though she was a team member and a good agent, she'd had a gun trained on her. Part of her knew he'd react in the best way he knew how for the situation.

And that had meant shooting when he had the shot.

She could tell by the way he'd said her name, by the look on his face when he saw her, alive, well and unharmed. In her eyes, he'd crossed the line they'd drawn in permanent marker and while the primal part of her got a thrill to see his gut reaction, the logical part of her was annoyed and frustrated. And she was nowhere near tired enough to let the former take hold.

They'd done so well. Work was work. Home was home. They lived by those six words, had based their entire relationship on keeping those things separate. And all of a sudden, they'd crashed together more violently than she'd been prepared for. It was one thing for them to ride back to the station hand-in-hand after a confrontation, but a completely different scenario when a man lost his life because of it.

They were going to be screwed come time for the inquiry. It was true Howard had his gun trained on her. It was true that Aaron couldn't have known she was getting closer and closer to talking him into putting the gun down. But she knew the board wouldn't see it like that. She'd testify to both of those things. She just hoped that their relationship wasn't wide open for the FBI to scrutinize.

Her gut was telling her something had to change.

It was also telling her she was hungry. Pyjama pants and a comfortable tank top took the place of business slacks and her t-shirt before she padded into the kitchen, her mind still whirling with the events.

In his defence, he'd been good in the aftermath. Any agent could chalk his concern up to having an agent in the line of fire with no way to protect themselves. The team already knew of their relationship status, so there wasn't going to be an issue on the behavioural front. And she knew that the team would defend both her and Hotch to the end of the earth, even if it could mean putting themselves and the job on the line. She'd do it too, for any of them, in an instant.

The smell of food preceded a knock on her door and Emily didn't have to think twice about who it was. With a sigh of exasperation – he had to know she wouldn't be anywhere close to cooled off yet – she headed to the door, opening it without a word and turning back into her apartment. She heard Aaron's footsteps follow.

Things had to change, but she wasn't going to throw away such a good thing. She popped the wine bottle as he set out the dishes, neither of them saying a word. They hadn't spoken to each other since the case had finished. It was a benefit of cases in Washington. They didn't have to be far from home, a luxury they all enjoyed.

She was wiping her hands on the towel by the sink when she felt his arms wrap around her middle. It was an interesting role reversal at home. Where she now allowed herself little touches when it was just them and the team, he was the one to initiate contact at home. Not always – she'd jumped his bones on occasion – but more often than not he arranged her position to his liking when they were settled on the couch or curled up in bed. Emily didn't mind in the slightest.

She covered his arms with hers, allowing herself to lean her head back against his shoulder. "We need to talk."

"I know," he mumbled into her neck, dropping a kiss on the delicate skin. "I know."

Emily turned in his arms, moving her hands to stroke up and down his biceps. He hadn't even gone home to change, as the suit said. He'd grabbed food and come here. She sighed. "Go change. You can't eat in your suit."

Instead, he pulled her against his body, pressing her head into the crook of his neck and his cheek against her hair. "I will." _In a minute_.

He'd been terrified when he saw Howard holding a gun on her. She'd gone for an interview. A bloody _interview_. Howard was a key witness, had been the one to call the police on the final scene. She was going to see if he could remember anything else about their unsub. It hadn't been until after she'd left that they realized that Howard fit the profile to a tee. Aaron was sure he'd never seen his BAU team move that fast since Reid had been kidnapped. The team was family and they did more than protect their own.

He had known by the way he'd found her that shooting Howard had been an unfortunate mistake. If he'd known Emily was seconds from getting him to hand over the gun, he wouldn't have taken the shot. All Aaron had been focused on was the woman he'd most definitely come to love was looking down the muzzle of a .38 special and there was no way he was going to lose her.

Emily sighed against him and wrapped her arms around his back. She was still angry with him, but she needed the contact as much as he did. Aaron had started to become her grounding rod in a world where grief was an everyday emotion and gore was on the menu for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Right now, she needed the memory of her reality.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

She sighed. "I know." She pushed away fully, moving around the counter. She needed space if they were going to deal with this. She needed to be able to think calmly and rationally, or as calmly and rationally she could given the circumstances. She pressed her hands on the counter top, trying to figure out where to start. "I _had_ him, Aaron."

"I know. Well, I know now."

Her anger was starting to bubble up again. "Did you even think before you took the shot?" She wouldn't look at him. He knew how to calm her down faster than anyone had in her life. At that particular moment, she didn't want to be calm.

"I thought about what it would feel like to see your brain spattered against the furniture of that house." Like he'd intended, the blunt honesty not only made her shudder, but made her raise surprised eyes to his. "I had the shot. I took it."

"And you killed a man! Does that mean _anything_?" She had a job that required she carry, that didn't mean she particularly enjoyed the privilege. She drew her gun on almost every single case they worked and yet, every time she did, she shuddered just that little bit more. She preferred to see criminals fry on the stand than she did to do justice on her own.

"I don't like killing, Emily."

Her shoulders slumped. "I know. I do. I just…" She looked up at the ceiling, hoping for inspiration for how to convey everything she was feeling. "You're lucky cops aren't trained to read behaviour."

Aaron nodded. It had been hard not to just pull her into his arms when he found her alive and unharmed, if a little blood spattered from his shot. The urge had been tempered by the immediate infiltration of Washington PD. They'd been separated while the chaos happened around them. Morgan had driven Emily home to get cleaned up. She'd washed down her face and changed, but that was it.

"I'm sorry, too," she said after a while.

That took him by surprise. Emily's anger had been understandable. They'd come this far, just over a year into their romantic relationship, without a blemish to make people think that there was anything different between them. Sure, they took more liberties while on the plane – she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder after a case – and weren't as cautious when they were out with the team, but there was still top brass to contend with and neither of them wanted to give Strauss any ammunition.

"What for?"

"I went to Howard's on an impulse. Something about him didn't sit right with me."

He was nodding. "You mentioned that before you left."

Emily pushed harder on the countertop, her fingertips going white with the pressure. "I should have asked Detective Brumsch to stay with me."

That was a thorn Aaron had yet to think about. A cop had taken her out there. It wasn't until he'd been walking up the steps that he'd seen the gun, Emily and Howard. He'd been the one to radio for help. "Why didn't you?"

"Something didn't sit right, but I didn't think he was a threat," Emily replied. Her entire body was screaming at her to hold him tight again, to wrap her arms around his cuddly body and never, ever, let go. But they had to get this dealt with. They had to figure out what they were doing, where they were going. "I thought he was a witness."

Aaron sighed, placing his hands by hers on the cool counter. "We were already on our way when we got the call. Brumsch sounded frantic."

She took the subtle invitation for contact, reaching out to hold one of his hands. "We have to decide what we're going to do."

There were so many sentences that lay underneath a phrase like that. _Is this worth it? Is there more? Is there a change we can make to make sure this doesn't happen again?_

"There's still a spot for me at white-collar."

Emily was shaking her head before he could finish the sentence. There was no way she was going to let him give up the BAU. Aaron was Rossi's recruit. She was the one that had been foisted on the department. "No way."

He sighed. "You can't leave. You just got here. You're too valuable to the unit to leave."

"I'm also easier to replace," she said softly, her voice void of bitterness or anger. "I'm not a unit chief."

"Rossi can take my place."

She chuckled at the idea. "No he can't, Aaron, you know that."

He did, but it was worth a shot to offer. She wasn't looking at him again. "What's up?"

Emily sighed. "The Washington Bureau offered me a unit chief job. Nothing too high strung, certainly not the BAU-"

"You love the BAU," he argued. "I've been working there longer."

"You love it too," she pointed out. "You've invested more in it. I wasn't asked to join the unit, you were told I was going to." It still bothered her to this day. It was still the root of her insecurities with the team.

"You don't want the Washington post."

It was true. She didn't. But there was one other option. "Martza is stepping down next month. They'll be looking for a new C-Team chief."

The natural selection would be someone from A-Team, their team. There were leaders abound under the command of Aaron Hotchner and the Bureau knew it. It would keep her close to the rest of the team while effectively removing her from under his command. In fact, they'd hold the same position within the Bureau.

"Strauss already pulled strings to get me into the BAU – against my wishes, I'll have you know. She knows I've got ambition and drive. She thinks she knows how to handle me."

Aaron chuckled at that. No one knew how to handle a behaviouralist except another behaviouralist. And Strauss was not one of them. "You have done fantastic work with our team."

Emily nodded. "People will be upset if I pull strings." They both knew she wouldn't. "I think it's at least worth a shot."

"And if it doesn't work?"

She hoped her smile had more courage than she felt. "Then I leave BAU completely, take the Washington job."

He stepped closer, almost around the counter. "You'd do that?"

"Yes." It was redundant. She would do anything for him, just like he'd do anything for her.

Aaron looked down at their entwined hands. "Compromise. You apply for the C-Team job. If you get it, we don't talk about this again. You don't get it, I take to the lecture circuit and you stay with the Bureau."

"Aaron, you _can't_ give up the BAU."

She sounded so adamant that he almost stepped back wards with the force of it. "I'll teach at Quantico, still be there if anyone needs me."

Emily had a feeling this was one compromise she was going to just have to agree to. She sighed. "I don't like this."

"Neither do I, but we knew we'd have to do this eventually."

That much was true. The continuation of their relationship, taking it any further than it was now, was going to require them to make some drastic lifestyle changes. She sighed.

"Okay," she said finally. "I'll apply for C-Team. If I don't get it, we'll look at things again." It was a half-compromise that would let her get her priorities in order as much as it would allow them chances to look elsewhere. There had to be something they could do outside of the BAU that they'd enjoy.

Aaron let out a breath, dispensing of the pretence that he wasn't a wreck on the inside to pull her to him again. "I love you."

It was the first time either of them had spoken the words out loud. They'd never felt they needed them. Their relationship spoke for itself. He felt her stiffen for a split second before bonelessly melting against him. He could tell by her voice that she was smiling.

"I love you too."

* * *

_**This was supposed to be one chapter. ONE! And now look at it! All because of you people! Okay, that's half a lie. I've enjoyed writing each part. This one is one of my favourites. I don't know if there is actually more than one unit, but there is in my little world of perfect Hotch/Emily-ness. **_

_**Loves to you all!**_


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